The Princess of Thieves
by JLF
Summary: The real story of Robin Hood...or least my take on it.
1. Chapter One Part One

Hey guys! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It really meant a lot to see how much people like my stuff. And I'm really, _really_ sorry that I haven't posted anything in a while, but I've been a little busy with my first semester of college and a small case of writer's block. But anyways I finally finished this chapter, and I'm posting it in two parts so it's a little bit easier to figure out. Again, thanks for reading and reviewing and enjoy!

JLF

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Princess of Thieves

J. L. F.

Chapter One

They watched the small figure crouched over the horse's neck riding through the forest. But they only watched the rider for a few moments before their eyes shifted to the two bulging saddlebags. The rider was shabbily clothed, but that was becoming a common occurrence now. Anyone with a half a brain wouldn't dare come through the forest dressed richly. No one was that foolish. At least not now.  
But this rider apparently wasn't as intelligent as he first appeared, else he would have thought to disguise the saddlebags as cleverly as he disguised himself. They were all anxiously awaiting the signal to pounce on him and take his goods. It would be a short fight and there would be great profit for them all. The rider would never know what hit him.  
The flaming arrow arched out of the trees and across the path, leaving a faint trail of light in the burgeoning darkness. It landed at the horse's feet, causing the mount to rear back and throw its rider. He fell hard and stayed on the ground, huddling in his worn cloak. The men streamed out of the forest and converged on horse and rider. They quickly had the goods and were about to reenter the forest when they heard a strange noise coming from the fallen rider. It sounded suspiciously like laughter. But not the hysterical laughter you might expect from a panicked noble. It was light, musical, and genuinely amused. Every man turned to stare at the huddled figure as his small body shook with laughter. Then the laughter abruptly ceased as the rider jumped to his feet and threw off the cloak. The men expected to see one of the sheriff's men acting as a lure, but they got quite a shock when they looked full upon the person standing before them. The rider was nothing more than a small wench with long, curling hair the color of a raging fire. Half of the men stared in open-mouthed shock while the other half grew angrier by the minute. They had been duped by a girl, and a tiny one at that.  
Trouble was about to erupt and the girl was grinning like a wildcat. She seemed oblivious to the growing tension surrounding her. Then _he_ came out of the trees.  
Most people, especially nobles, would've been frightened by just a glimpse of _him_. _He_ was a legend in his own right and his mere presence would usually dissuade any rebellious acts. But this mere slip of a girl didn't even flinch. Her bright smile never once faltered and that surprised them most of all.  
Her lack of reaction caused some confusion for _him_. _He_ moved forward slowly and gracefully, never losing his air of effortless poise and rugged fierceness. His cold expression and steely blue-grey eyes chilled even his own compatriots, but as he let this wench see the full extent of his distaste she only smiled more brightly.  
"Good. You came. I would've been most disappointed had you not."  
"What are you doing here, girl?" _he_ asked contemptuously.  
"Isn't it quite obvious? I'm here to join you and your men."  
Her bold statement was met with many bawdy answers, but _he_ silenced them all when the remarks seemed to only fill her sculpted features with wry amusement and not fear. She stared down one of the loudest men until he finally looked away, his cheeks reddening slightly. She turned back to _him_, one brow arched delicately as she regarded _him_.  
"You can't actually be serious."  
"I'm quite serious. And I'm good, too. There's money and jewels in those bags. Why don't you check?"  
_He_ moved over to the men holding the sacks she'd been carrying and motioned for them to open them for his perusal. She hadn't been lying. _He_ turned back to her slowly and immediately recognized the '"I told you so" look on her face. _He'd_ had that same look on _his_ face a number of times.  
"So you brought us something to buy your way in?"  
"No, I stole it. From a rich noble a little ways up the road. He's still there, probably wallowing in the mess he made. There are more goods on him, but I didn't want to seem too…presumptuous."  
"Well, there's no threat of that, is there?" _he_ said, inciting laughter from the more intellectual men. "How do we know you're not a spy sent from Prince John?"  
"Because Prince John is an inept idiot who would never even think to send a spy. Now the sheriff would think of something like that. But even he wouldn't be smart enough to send someone as unassuming as a woman, even one like myself. He would never believe that there existed a woman who could successfully infiltrate your band. That is where the two of you are quite similar. You both look down on woman. You mistakenly think we are weak and inferior. I'm here to prove you and everyone else who thinks like that wrong."  
"And just how do you intend to do that?"  
"Pit me against one of your best men. Or yourself, if you're feeling brave enough today. If I win, I'm in. If I lose, I'll be on my way. Is it a deal?" she asked, her voice turning serious as she put out her hand to _him_.  
"Why not? We could all use some entertainment," _he_ answered as _he_ ignored her outstretched hand, clearly seeking to slight her. "But not here. We wouldn't want any…unfortunate surprises, now would we?"  
"Of course not," she said cordially, turning her back to _him_ as she headed towards the forest.  
Everyone understood the semblance of her actions. She was boldly proclaiming that she didn't fear _him_ in the least. It was an incredibly foolish…and brave thing to do.  
_His_ eyes turned to steel in an instant at her action. "Wait! A blindfold for the _lady_," _he_ said sharply. "We wouldn't want to suddenly find the sheriff's men surrounding our camp tomorrow." One of the men handed _him_ a dirty rag. _He_ moved closer to her and proceeded to tie the cloth over her eyes. She remained motionless as _he_ did this, her still body betraying no outward signs of fear. This show of bravery and defiance only helped to increase _his_ growing fury at her audacity. _He_ tightened the knot harshly. She didn't whimper as most women would have. No, she joked about _his_ harshness instead, making a joke of _him_. And when _he_ pushed her forward sharply, she barely stumbled, seeming almost unaffected by _his_ ministrations. She let out a burst of laughter and then moved forward on her own, not tripping or running into anything, as if she were not blinded at all. _He_ followed behind her, a cold and scheming gleam in his eyes.  
They quickly came upon a clearing in the woods. The men gathered around, ready for anything, especially a fight. They all knew who _he_ would pick to fight the foolish girl. The man _he_ chose would not hurt her too much, but he would make sure she learned her lesson.  
_He_ untied the makeshift blindfold and left her standing alone in the middle of the clearing. She stood with her feet apart, her shoulders squared, ready to face whatever, or whoever, _he_ threw at her. She didn't even falter when, with a slight hand motion from _him_, a tall, well-muscled man walked into the center of the clearing to stand directly across from her. In comparison to him, she looked small and frail. But she just gazed up at him and smiled knowingly, almost smugly. The man carried two staffs, one of which he threw to the girl. She caught it and twirled it expertly, moving into a fighting stance. She didn't seem to notice that her head barely reached his chest or that he was at least three times her size as she looked up at him expectantly, waiting for the sign that would mark his attack. When she saw it, she countered swiftly and smoothly, moving away from him with all the grace of the finest dancer. He had planned to use his strength to bear down on her and thus wear her out, but she was too smart and well-trained for such a ploy. Every trap he used, she quickly disarmed. All of her attacks were quick, lightning fast, and very sporadic. She seemed to not want to expend all her energy on strong attacks, but to use it instead on quick defenses and small, relatively meaningless strikes. But her style seemed to be wearing on the burly man, for he looked as if he was beginning to tire. It was then that she really began to attack. Her moves were like nothing the men had ever seen before. Even _he_ looked surprised by her clear ability. A collective gasp went up among the spectators as she landed a devastating blow to her opponent's midsection. She then brought her staff under his legs, sweeping him off his feet. She then, with another elegant and sweeping move, halted the staff just before his chin. He looked up at her dazedly, as if he couldn't believe that she had felled him. She moved the staff away and then put her hand out to help him to his feet. He stared at her hand for a moment, beginning to realize the import of his failure and her gesture. He had just single-handedly allowed a woman to join their ranks. But more importantly he had failed _him_. Now he would have to face _him_ and the men knowing full well that he had allowed all of this to happen. Yet in her face and posture he saw kindness, comfort, and even regret for her actions. He knew that she wanted to join them more than anything, but she hadn't wanted to humiliate or disgrace him. And now she seemed to want to make it up to him.  
Any other man would've risen to his feet unaided and ignored her proffered hand, as if she were a leper. But he didn't. Another even stronger collective gasp went through the men as he took her hand and rose to his feet. Her face veritably lit at his clear gesture of acceptance, even friendship. She hadn't expected that. When he was standing, however, he did not release her hand.  
"You fought well. I'd like to know the name of the woman who has bested me," he said in his deep, rumbling bass that struck a cord into the very heart of her.  
"My name is Rhiannon."  
"And my name is—"  
"John, I know," she answered, interrupting him. "Though why they ever called you 'Little' I'll never understand," she said excitedly, inciting a laugh from him.  
"My father's name was also John. It was easier for everyone if I was called 'Little' John. And at the time, it fit. After that it stuck with me."  
"Is it all right if I simply call you John? The rest just does not fit anymore."  
"Of course, that is if I can call you Little Rhiannon." At his comment her face darkened ominously and he quickly remembered that she was still holding her staff. He ducked swiftly as she swung it at his head and then backed away, finally releasing her hand. "Only joking. I would never dream of doing such a thing."  
"Good," she replied icily, though her eyes were shining with laughter.


	2. Chapter One Part Two

            "If you two are done with all this frivolity we have more important things to discuss," said the man with the icy blue eyes as _he_ glared with disdain at the easy rapport between the two of them. Rhiannon smiled brightly, believing that _he_ meant to include her. "_You_ can go prepare all of us something to eat," _he_ said scathingly as _he_ turned away from her.  
            "What?!" she exclaimed angrily, her mouth open in shock.   
            "Robin, you're not being fair. She—"  
            "Am I not the leader of this band? Am I not Robin Hood?" he shouted in anger at the seeming betrayal of his most loyal follower. "I make the decisions here. Yes, she can join our number, but she must carry her weight. And she will do that as any other woman should: by cooking and cleaning. Now, get to it!"  
            "Yes, _sir_," said Rhiannon angrily as she turned from him and pushed her way through the men, stomping off into the forest. John started to follow her, but Robin's hand on his arm forcefully stopped him.   
            "Just what do you think you're doing? I said we have things to discuss."  
            "She doesn't know her way around the forest. She doesn't even know where camp is. We can't just let her wander around by herself."  
            "She can take care of herself, as you well know," said Robin pointedly. "Forget her. Will can follow her and make sure she finds her way to camp."  
            "No, I'll go get her and take her back to camp myself."  
            "Why is this slip of a girl so important to you, John?"  
            "Why shouldn't she be? She's one of us now. We look out for our own, don't we Robin?" And with that John disappeared into the forest in the same direction Rhiannon had headed.  
            It didn't take long to catch up with her, for she hadn't wandered far. He found her leaning against a tree in defeat, clearly trying to hold back the tears shining in her bright hazel eyes as she gripped her arms fiercely over her heaving chest.  
            "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, trying not to startle her. She jumped slightly, throwing his concerned face a mere glance before consigning her gaze to the ground where he couldn't see her hindered tears.  
            "I'm fine. Really. I just needed to cool down a bit before facing _him_ again."  
            "Of course. Would you like me to show you to the camp now, or would you rather wait a little while?"  
            She took a deep breath before answering. "I'd like to wait. And you don't have to show me anything. I can find my way on my own."  
            "But I want to show you," he said quietly. She looked up sharply, as if trying to make sure she had understood him correctly, or if his intent was honorable. But when she saw nothing but kindness and concern in his face, she looked down again, a troubled look coming over her face.  
            "Perhaps you shouldn't try to befriend me, John. It could prove dangerous to your position as your…I mean, our leader has already taken such a dislike to me. And I'm sure he expects all the other men to follow his example, and they will probably be more than ready to do just that."  
            "My position?" he murmured with a hearty chuckle. "What care have I for my 'position'? We are all equals here, Rhiannon. I make my own decisions about who I befriend and who I don't. I follow no man's example—"  
            "But Robin leads you, does he not?" she asked, almost indignantly, interrupting him.  
            "I follow no man's example, without good reason. Robin may be the leader of this band, but he does not control anyone's thoughts or actions, especially mine. I am not as weak-willed as all that."  
            "I did not think you were. But…men with such…such charisma as Robin, they can cloud the mind with their words. I should know," she finished quietly, almost to herself.  
            "And what would you know of such a thing?" he asked sharply, bristling at the thought of some man misleading her in any way.  
            She smiled wearily and almost self-mockingly. "More than most would presume. I am not as young and innocent as everyone takes me for. I have lived and made mistakes, a great many in fact, just like everyone else. I am no stranger to foolishness. But I will not be lead astray by such a one as him again," she said with heat and vehemence in her suddenly hard, lilting voice.  
            "Such a one as whom, Rhiannon?" he asked, gazing intently at her. Her eyes quickly rose to meet his questioning gaze, a look of fear coming over her for a moment. But the look soon cleared and she smiled swiftly, as if covering its passing.  
            "Why Robin, of course. Who else could I be speaking of? Come John, I believe I have recovered from my anger. And though Robin thinks he will have me beat yet, he is in for a surprise or two. He may soon discover that I can be just as stubborn and unmoving as he is," she finished with a sly smile before she linked her arm through John's and began leading him in the direction of the camp. Then it suddenly hit him that she shouldn't have known which direction to go in.  
            "How…how did you know…" he stuttered, confusion clear on his face.  
            "How did I know how to find my way to camp, is that what you wish to know? Well, a magician cannot reveal all her secrets, dear John, lest everyone soon become disillusioned with them, so to speak, and decide they are not worth the trouble."  
            "And are you worth the trouble, Rhiannon?"  
            "That is for me to know…and you to find out," she finished coyly, gazing up at him from underneath the veil of her thick eyelashes. John was suddenly stunned by a fierce and almost overwhelming attraction, so overwhelming that he had to look away from those stunning eyes lest he do something he might regret…and get a severe whipping for it.


	3. Chapter Two

Yes, oh my goodness, I've finally got another chapter out. I almost can't believe it myself (and I know all the people who've reviewed definitely can't.) Again, sorry about the lack of updates, things get busy, you guys know the drill, and then there was the inevitable writer's block, which I get quite frequently. And now I've finally returned to one of my favorite stories and characters and gotten some work done. I hope y'all enjoy. And, although I can't promise Chapter Three will be coming soon, I can let you in on the fact that I'm working on it. I hope you enjoy and please don't give up on me. I'm just terrible when it comes to sticking to one idea/story at a time. I know, excuses, excuses. Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let y'all get on to the story. Again, I'm sorry and enjoy.

JLF

PS. That weird little cross thing in the middle of the chapter was actually a really neat looking celtic knot font thing that apparently didn't transfer. Sorry 'bout that.

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Chapter Two

Rhiannon did not get a very warm reception when she finally ventured into the most exclusive hide-out in all of England that first night. Some of the men looked at her with mixed levels of resentment, reserved anger, and plain blatant hostility while others looked at her with a little too much _interest_ for her liking. She was afraid for a moment that she had gotten herself into something much worse than Prince John's own dungeon, but she did not let her fear show lest the men think her weak and try to find means of attacking that weakness. But John stuck close to her side, a veritable mountain of confidence shadowing her every step through camp as he guided her toward the sleeping area. As she neared the more secluded site littered with tents, sleeping pallets, and banked fires, she was briefly distressed as she worried about exactly where she would sleep. She couldn't sleep among the men, most of them probably had the wrong idea already and she couldn't encourage such thoughts in any way. But then where would she sleep?  
"Rhiannon, stop looking so troubled," commanded John, a teasing tone running through his deep timbre.  
She looked up at him sharply, anger sparking in her eyes. "I am not troub…" her voice trailed off faintly as she saw what was overhead. The very trees themselves seemed to have great wooden houses sprawling amongst the branches and leaves with stout ladders and ropes positioned at various intervals to climb up into their heights.  
"And I thought you would be a hard one to shock into silence. It does me good to know I can be wrong."  
"It's magnificent," she whispered reverently, as if talking about a church rather than an outlaws' hide-out.  
"It's nothing really, just a good way to hide and defend oneself, as well as being a better vantage point in case of attacks. They're really just a bunch of glorified tree houses—"  
"They're better than anything I could have ever imagined. Ever since I heard the tales of Robin Hood I wanted to be a part of this. And now I am. It's just like a dream come true, John."  
"You might not think so in a few weeks time. Things won't be easy for you, Rhiannon. But just know that I am always here for you if you should have need," he said solemnly. A great look of surprise crossed her features before her face broke out in a heart-stopping smile.  
"I am moved beyond words, John. That is the most amazing and singularly sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you," she said softly and just as solemnly as he had made his own proclamation. She then stood daintily on tip-toe and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The kiss was sweet and feather-soft and like nothing John had ever experienced. Somehow this tiny slip of a girl had managed not only to fell the mighty Little John in physical combat, but she had also managed to worm her way straight into the very depths of his heart in a matter of hours.  
"Let me show you where you can sleep," he said quickly, heading over to a nearby ladder and beginning to climb, throwing one cursory glance over his shoulder to make sure she was following him. After a dazed moment of admiring the structures from the ground, she shook her head as if to clear it and dutifully followed him up the ladder, hurrying in her excitement to see these marvels.  
As they were standing on a small pathway that branched out to several other structures, John paused, allowing Rhiannon another moment to take in all that was around her.  
"Who built all of this?" she asked in a hushed tone.  
"We all did, though at the time there weren't as many here to help."  
"Did Robin design this?"  
"No, Robin has no head for such things."  
"Then what does Robin have a head for…so to speak."  
"Money…and women, I suppose, when it suits him."  
"Right champion of the people, eh?" she questioned wryly.  
"He had good intentions…at the beginning. I suppose he's just let all this…fame get to his head."  
"You know, I did a bit of research before seeking you out."  
"Seeking _me_ out?"  
"Not you personally, John; Robin and the men."  
"What kind of research?"  
"I went around to the various villages, posing as a beggar, testing the waters on this _legend_. There are many who have heard about Robin and his cohorts and their brave and gallant actions. But I wanted to be sure that it wasn't just a legend; that such men did exist."  
"And how did we pass?"  
"_You_ have passed remarkably well. Others…have not."  
"Don't judge Robin by his treatment of you. He just…doesn't like losing or being proved wrong. You bruised his pride."  
"I would think in this kind of business pride would be superfluous. Maybe even dangerous."  
"At times it can be. Of course, when dealing with the sheriff…sometimes a healthy amount of pride goes a long way."  
"I'll remember that. It may come in handy."  
"Already planning your first encounter with the sheriff? That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?"  
"The first thing you should've learned about me, John, is that I am in no way afraid of being presumptuous."  
"Very true, very true indeed."  
"Woman! I thought I told you to get to work! The men are hungry," Robin called out from below them. John heard a faint growl emit from Rhiannon's throat before she turn her back to the bellowing leader.   
"It's food he wants, is it? Well, I'll give him a meal like he's never had before."  
"Rhiannon, perhaps now is not the best time to be courting trouble…at least, not more than you've already courted."  
"He has to know that I was not simply cow-tow and allow him to treat me this way. The quicker he learns the better off we'll all be. Don't worry, I won't poison him…at least I won't poison him enough to kill him," she said slyly, a gleam coming into her eyes.   
"Rhiannon, just what is it you're planning to do?"  
"Never you mind, John. Besides, it's better if you don't know. That way you can truthfully claim complete innocence. Now, show me where they make the food so I can get to work and not cause any more discord."  
"This way then. And Lord help us all," he murmured, before heading down another ladder.  
"Sometimes the Lord works in mysterious ways, John. And you're about to see some of His most mysterious ways. I hope you're ready."  
"I somehow don't believe anything could make me ready for whatever you've got in store for the lot of us. But I won't hinder you and I won't give away that you're planning anything underhanded. Where would the fun be in that?"  
"Where indeed?" 

‡

Rhiannon asleep was a thing of beauty…or, more correctly, a thing of entirely different beauty than Rhiannon awake. Stumbling upon her sleeping form was like wandering into some enchanted realm and discovering a beautifully serene fairy princess waiting to be awakened by a magic kiss. She was at once transformed from a sly, sometimes vexing, taunting wildcat into a peaceful and guileless beauty. But Robin knew better than to believe she was anything of the sort, no matter how innocent she appeared.  
"Robin, don't you think you're jumping to conclusions a bit? It was probably an accident."  
"An accident, John? Yes, it was an accident; she really meant to poison me, not just make me sick. Don't take her side, John. It'll only land you on the wrong side of me and that is most definitely not a side you want to be on."  
"I'm not on anybody's side. I'm your friend and I'm hers as well. Besides, you can't exactly say you didn't deserve this."  
"Yes, yes I can say I didn't deserve this…this foul condition brought on by her purposefully bad cooking."  
"You did taunt her something awful while she was preparing the food. And after she had proved herself worthy and more than able to join us, you gave her the most demeaning tasks you could think of."  
"All tasks fit for a woman," Robin stated matter-of-factly, as if this were a thing that should've been apparent to all.  
"Not a woman like her. She's not meant to be wasting away in a hot, sweaty kitchen or laundering and mending all our clothes. She's meant to be doing mischief with the rest of us. And she's apparently damn good at it."  
"That's another matter I'll have to bring up with her."  
"What?"  
"Her treatment of my clothes," Robin replied crossly, indicating the sad torn state of his favorite tunic.  
"You should've thought it through before relegating a task like taking care of your clothing to a woman like that after you'd already made her plenty angry."  
"Apparently. I see your clothes are in fine condition. Must be the good courting you're giving her."  
"Or it could be that I mend 'em myself. Not that I wouldn't trust her to try her best at cleaning or mending 'em, but I caught a fair glimpse of her as she went about it. I'm not really sure all of this mess is completely sabotage."  
"What is the world coming to when women don't even know how to properly cook, clean, and mend things?"  
"A much better world in my opinion. I'd rather have twenty women like Rhiannon fighting alongside me than twenty useless noble _ladies_ who sit around stitching things all day."  
"Ah, John, that's such a sweet thing for you to say. Almost makes up for your insulting comments about my skills with needle and thread."  
"I thought you might've been awake for that. But truth's truth and truth is you're both a terrible cook and a terrible seamstress even when you're trying your damnedest."  
"Hmm…I guess I can't really kill you for telling the truth. Though I could bring myself to beat your arse in a sparring match as soon as Robin's done with whatever he came here to complain about."  
"I'm not here to complain about anything."  
"Really? Then why the hell did you two decide to have a conversation in my room about me while I was asleep thus waking me from a rather nice dream."  
"What was the dream about?" asked John curiously, maintaining a remarkably straight face in spite of Robin's clear annoyance at the turn in conversation.  
"I don't think there's really any point in us knowing what she was dreaming about, John," Robin stated, a hard note edging as voice as he tried to leash in his anger.  
"I don't mind," Rhiannon replied before looking past Robin at John. "I was taking a bath. A wonderful hot bath complete with scented soaps and herbs and the works. I don't remember the last time I ever had one. Or if I ever had one. Hmm. So what is it you wanted, Robin? Since I'm awake I might as well get to preparing the morning meal."  
"That is not necessary."  
"Then perhaps I should get to the laundry. I noticed quite a lot of it lying about last night around the men's tents and rooms."  
"No, I think it would be best if we all just tended to our own laundering and cooking needs."  
"If that's what you think is best," Rhiannon complied innocently, briefly winking at John when Robin wasn't paying attention.  
"There is one other issue I wished to address with you."  
"Yes, what is it?"  
"If you ever try to poison me again, I will kill you."  
"Robin, if I had wanted you poisoned, you'd be dead, not just needing to shite every few minutes. Is that all?" she replied cheekily. Robin stared at her glassily as if he could not believe she had actually admitted to causing his sickness while John stood braced behind him, ready to catch him should he try and attack Rhiannon. No matter how good she was at sparring (and she was good indeed as John himself could attest to after only a matter of days) she had no idea how Robin most liked to fight and she could very well end up with a knife between her ribs before she even saw him twitch.  
"Perhaps it would be best if we all witnessed exactly what you are capable of doing instead of the areas in which you are clearly incapable," he finally replied stonily.  
"Fair enough. I suppose we'll go with the full gamut. Swords, staffs, knives, hand-to-hand…and archery."  
"Perhaps. But let's not rush things," he answered before turning swiftly, his every movement radiating anger, and leaving her quarters.  
"You really should be more careful around him, Rhi," John finally said after Robin was out of earshot.  
"I'm not afraid of him, John."  
"You have no idea what he is capable of."  
"And neither he nor you know what I am capable of. I'd say that makes us all pretty evenly matched, wouldn't you?"  
"Maybe. I guess we'll find out soon enough."  
"Yes, it appears we will," she said merrily, a glint in her eye that already had John worrying. "You up for some real sparring today, John?"  
"Always am."  
"Good. Just remember not to hold back just because I'm a wee pretty lass."  
"Oh, I'll remember. I know that that wee pretty lass is more hellfire than womanly daintiness when she's in the mood."  
"Oh, do you now? Well, you haven't seen nothing yet. Let's go. I'm itching for a good tussle with you."  
"Really? What kind of tussle?"  
"That would be giving everything away, now wouldn't it?"


End file.
